Mr. Smiley Takes Over the World
by Erin4
Summary: Mr. Smiley gets annoyed at Bill Gates and decides to take over the world. Warning: Senseless Microsoft, Bill Gates and Robbie Williams bashing.
1. Prologue: Mr. Smiley turns evil

The first in the "Windows games" series. This one centres around Minesweeper.  
~~~~~~  
  
It was a cold dark night as I sat in front of my computer. Nothing unusual about that, it was always cold in Scotland. I was slightly annoyed because my ISP had decided to take a little break and had ceased to function. It being too late to do anything else, I decided to do the unthinkable.  
  
I silently chastised myself as I clicked Start Accessories Games... The mouse hovered over the four options as I tried to decide which to play. After only a moments debate, I clicked on Minesweeper.  
  
I had always thought that the little face (I like to call him "Mr. Smiley") was really cute. Especially when I finish a game of Minesweeper and he dons his extremely cool sunglasses. However, tonight there was something wrong with Mr. Smiley. At that point in time, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something unusual about him, something... sinister.  
  
I put it down to one to many cups of Tchae and began my game. I'm actually pretty good at Minesweeper, believe it or not. I can finish it on all the different levels. I was down to 23 mines out of 99. I felt the familiar adrenaline rush as I became sure that victory was mine!  
  
"BLING BLING!" I jumped. The unexpected sound came from MSN. But what was this? I wasn't even connected to the internet. I minimised the Minesweeper window. This was my first mistake. My first, but certainly not my last...  
  
Suddenly, Minesweeper filled the screen. Before my disbelieving eyes, Mr. Smiley began to grow larger until his round frame filled the screen. My eyes widened in amazment as words spewed from the speakers.  
  
"So... Erin. You think you're so good at Minesweeper, do you?" the words were as smooth as liquid.  
  
"Actually yes, yes I do. And who are you to say otherwise?!" I retorted.  
  
"I have no quarrel with you personally. At least you play the game with some display of tactical thought, unlike the fools who just randomly click on boxes. However, quite frankly, I'm sick of working for Bill Gates. I am nothing more than an exploited extra who gets payed below the minimum wage and is treated with no respect whatsoever. I mean, even the Solitaire cards have more Street Cred than I do. Bearing all this in mind, I feel I have been given no option but to... DESTROY THE WORLD!" 


	2. Chp. 1: Bill Gates arrives

I woke to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. I cursed them aloud and tried to sleep again. But the incessant "Cheep cheep, cheep cheep" prevented me from keeping my eyes closed for more than a few seconds. Not for the first time, I wondered why everyone loves the sound of birds in the morning - I can't stand it.  
  
Looking at the yellow of my walls triggered a memory of last night... Mr. Smiley. Mr. Smiley had come alive! He had threatened to take over the world.  
  
A lesser human may have found the idea ludicrous, and put it all down to some strange and obscure dream. But I had watched enough films to know that these things are never dreams. I cautiously peered outside my window. I don't really know what I expected to see, but I certainly did not expect the sight that greeted my tired eyes.  
  
A gigantic yellow sphere lay in my garden. Even as I stared, it slowly began to revolve, revealing a huge pair of shades and a twisted, toothless grin.  
  
"What the...?" I whispered.  
  
"Thought you were dreaming, did you? Heh. To account for my apparent increase in size, it is - once again - the fault of Windows. I shall not bore you with technical details, but they basically messed up when working out the 'real-life' size of one pixel. This is generally not a problem, since it's not exactly the norm for pixelated images to magically come to life," he cackled. Once again, I wondered at the liquid-smooth voice. The words seemed to flow from his very being like a river.  
  
"Well, I always knew there was something a bit 'off' about Bill Gates. I tried to tell everyone in my Peter Andre conspiracy theory, but they were having none of it."  
  
Either Mr. Smiley did not hear me, or he had no wish to engage in casual conversation with someone like myself. Whatever the reason, he revolved once more, and bounced over my garden fence. Soon, he was rolling down the road towards Mingwall town centre.  
  
"MR. SMILEY! COME BACK!" I yelled.  
  
Realising Mr. Smiley was not listening, I leaped from my bedroom window, rolled down to the bottom of my garden, hopped over the fence and sped down the road after the giant sphere. After I had run for several hundred metres, I realised I was still wearing my pyjamas. The only thing that would suitably describe how I felt right then is:  
  
"D'OH"  
  
But I knew there was no time to get changed. Mr. Smiley was out to destroy the world. Alright, so he seemed like a decent enough smiley, but there was no way I was letting him destroy this planet. But there was also no way I could stop him on my own. He was absolutely gigantic, and he'd be sure to crush me if I even tried. So who could I enlist to help me? The one who was the cause of this madness: Bill Gates.  
  
I ran for the telephone box, not even sure what number I was going to phone when I got there. As I reached for the receiver, the phone began ringing. Confused, I lifted it up to my ear and listened.  
  
"Hello... Erin..." a sinister voice whispered down the phone lines.  
  
"And you are...?" I asked, more than a hint of impatience in my voice.  
  
"Bill Gates."  
  
"Makes sense. Right, so Mr. Smiley from Minesweeper is here and he wants to destroy the world. It might be a good idea for you to give up on trying to actually make a Windows OS that works properly and come over here and help me out!"  
  
The phone went dead.  
  
As I grumbled to myself about the uselessness of Bill Gates and Microsoft in general, a figure emerged from the shadows. The thing was twisted and terribly skinny. As it came into the light, I recognised who it was...  
  
Bill Gates. 


	3. Chp. 2: Wreaking Havoc

"Bill Gates?!" I yelled.  
  
"Indeed. It is I," replied the deformed figure.  
  
"I would ask how the hell you got here, but as the author of several conspiracy theories involving you, I have no need."  
  
"Oh yes, I know of those theories. How did you find out about the Peter Andre thing? No matter, this is not the issue here."  
  
"This way." I pointed to the high street of Mingwall.  
  
As we walked the short distance to Mingwall town centre, I observed with interest the way Bill skulked in the darkness. He seemed almost to become one with the flitting patches of shadow. Clearly, old Mr. Gates had mastered the art of sneaking a long time ago.  
  
He remained silent throughout the duration of our journey. Never a sigh nor throat clearing. Nothing. I found it ever so slightly unnerving. Long before we saw the horror that was to enfold before our shocked eyes, we heard the screams. Screams of terror and agony.  
  
The town centre was chaos. The huge yellow sphere that was Mr. Smiley sat grinning in the centre of the cobblestones. Blood and bodies lay scattered around it. As I watched, horrified, the gaping maw swallowed an old woman whole.  
  
"OI! SMILEY!" I shouted.  
  
The orb revolved to face me. I suddenly felt very small, and very scared.  
  
"Ahh yes, Erin. What do you want? Do you wish to be spared until last or would you rather die now?" The liquid tongue kept me captivated once more.  
  
"Neither. I have someone here to see you."  
  
Bill Gates stepped from behind a flower box. Beside Mr. Smiley, Bill looked like a fly - albeit a deformed fly - sitting below Big Ben. It was hard to determine Mr. Smiley's feeling from his calm visage, but I'm sure something red flickered from behind the shades.  
  
"Ahh... you..." he whispered.  
  
"Y-y-y-yes..." Bill stuttered.  
  
"What do you want?! I wanted to save you for last. I wanted you to watch your precious Micro$oft Empire crumble, CRUMBLE! And then, I would free the victims of your exploitation and crush you. Crush you like the worm you are! UWAHAHAHAHA!"  
  
"I-I-I understand that y-y-you are u-upset Mr. Smiley, b-b-but I'm sure I c-can see about g-getting c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-"  
  
"Conditions," I intercepted. "He can see about getting conditions improved for you. I mean, when you have crushed humanity, what will you do then?"  
  
Mr. Smiley faltered. "I..."  
  
"Exunctly. I never understood vilains who just wanted to kill everyone on earth. There'd be nothing to rule over. Also, there would be no slaves to follow your every command and no one to worship you. But, I digress. You have no need to crush all humans. Just bring down the Micro$oft Empire around Mr. Gates' ears. Make him suffer!"  
  
"Well, you may be right. I like the way you think. Will you join me in this quest?"  
  
"Yes. Yes I will."  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Sorry it took me so long to update! I spilt Tchae on my keyboard, so the computer was out of action. -_- 


	4. Chp. 3: The filthy plot

Looking back on the last few days, I decided that I had gone off my trolley. I mean, seriously. You just don't wake up with an enourmous yellow ball going by the name of "Mr. Smiley" in your garden. Particularly an enormous yellow ball that wants to take over the world. The only sane explanation I could come up with, was that I had gone completely INsane!  
  
And yet, here I was: sitting in the office of one of the richest men on the planet. Following the specific instructions of Mr. Smiley, I knew exactly what I was doing. Simply staring at mines and flags all day - it appeared - was not all that our Mr. Smiley got up to. He knew exactly how to hit Windows (called Windoze by some of its more sensible users). The first place to start was the workers. Win them over to our side, and the fat cats would soon topple.  
  
I was to send an e-mail to every employee of Microsoft - my reason for being in the office in the first place. The e-mail went as follows:  
  
Dear Wally,  
As a respected and highly-paid friend of mine, I thought I should divulge one of my greatest secrets to you. I am currently hatching a plot to cut the pay of all the hard workers in the company. They're fools, all of them. Incompetent fools. Why do you think my Windows NT was, well, utter tripe? Their fault. So, we shall cut the pay of the programmers, secretaries etc. down to a pitance! Barely enough to sustain their miserable existances. Uwahahaha (I am aware that this evil cackle would be far more effective if I was speaking to you in person). So, I am calling a meeting with you and a few others to see about this pay docking.  
Yours,   
Billy-Boy.  
  
The idea was that "clever" Mr. Gates accidentally forwards an e-mail meant for a rich friend to every employee. I had to admit, Mr. Smiley certainly was an intelligent young chappy.  
  
The idea worked better than we could ever have dreamed. Within hours, there was chaos all over the world. Microsoft employees everywhere were outraged at the incident. The question on the whole worlds' lips: What did Bill Gates have to say for himself?  
  
I wished to know the answer myself, so I flicked on the television. Unfamiliar with the American channels, it took a lot of searching before I finally found a news channel.  
  
'Thousands of employees outraged, a company in turmoil, and what does the man responsible have to say for himself? We caught up with Bill Gates and put this question to him,' said a dashing young news reader.  
*Flick to a seedy looking bar*  
'So, Bill. Just what is going on here?' asked a young woman, her face almost comletely obscured by the vast quantities of make-up she had applied to it.  
'It's lies, LIES!' began Mr. Gates. 'I swear to you, I didn't write that e-mail!'  
'Then how do you explain it? You're too well protected to allow someone to hack into your account.'  
'Indeed, indeed. However, the person - or should I say thing - responsible is one of Microsofts' most trusted employees. Mr. Smiley from my Windows game/i Minesweeperi has come to life and along with a young girl from Scotland is trying to ruin my company and subsequently take over the world!'  
'I fear that Mr. Gates has taken leave of his senses. He will no doubt be taken to see a psychiatrist soon...'  
  
I turned the television off again, satisfied that nobody would believe Bill's "ludicrous" story. Now was my opportunity to do something I'd always wanted to do - I sat back in the big executive chair, clasping my fingers together and cackling insanely. Unfortunately, my moment was ruined as Mr. Smiley made his appearence.  
  
"Fancy yourself as a bit of a hard-ass now do you Erin? Don't forget it was yours truly who masterminded the whole operation," he chuckled.  
  
"Psssssht! Not at all. I was just enjoying the feeling of power. Uwa ha ha ha. Don't deny that you're enjoying it too," I spat back.  
  
"Oh, I'm loving every minute. Although our plans are nearing fruition, there is still much to be done. Please clear off and allow me to do some scheming."  
  
Deciding it was best not to argue with a gigantic yellow ball, I left. Nothing was familiar to me in America. They called the pavement a "sidewalk" and spelled colour without the "u". No doubt any American in Britain would feel just as alien, but I'm talking about narcisstic ol' me right now. I tried to think of somewhere that remained the same no matter where you went. Somewhere that had it's own unique spirit no matter which country it was in...  
  
... McDonalds.  
  
I didn't know whether I could bring myself to walk in there. You see, I'm Coulrophobic. For those of you who have never heard of the condition, it means I'm deathly afraid of clowns. Ronald McDonald seems to be waiting at every turn in the fast food restaurant. I sucked in a deep breath and pushed open the door. Oh yes, this was McDonalds'. There was no mistaking the smell of grease and "meat" cooking, no mistaking the spotty-countenance of the under-paid teenage workers.  
  
Who would have thought? Sitting in the corner was...  
  
... Robbie Williams!  
  
----  
  
Alright, so I finally did another chapter. It's been a long, long time. To be perfectly honest, I totally forgot about this little project of mine. However, now that I'm up and running again, I'd like to see this actually going somewhere. Thanks to the reviewer who pointed out that some of my earlier chapters (ond probably this one) contain some typos. I shall revise all chapters as soon as I get time. Thanks for reading. :) 


	5. Chp. 4: The Robbie Williams Saga

Legal junk: Before we begin! I did not write - and am in no way associated with - Rock DJ (thank everything that keeps me sane). That is all.  
  
----  
  
What a coincidence! Of all the MacDonalds' in all of America, Robbie Williams just happened to be in this one. This was certainly a turn-up for the books, so to speak. Not because he was my idol or because liked his music - in fact, the opposite was true. This was my chance to finally get some revenge for [insert long, drawn-out shudder at this point] Rock DJ. Let's - for the sake of the lucky soles out there who have not been subjected to the song - take a look at some of the lyrics:  
  
"I don't wanna be sleazy  
Baby just tease me  
Got no family planned  
Houston can you hear me  
Ground-control can you feel me  
Need permission to land  
I don't wanna rock, DJ  
But you're making me feel so nice  
When's it gonna stop, DJ  
Cause you're keepin' me up all night  
  
I don't wanna rock, DJ  
But you're making me feel so nice  
When's it gonna stop, DJ  
Cause you're keepin' me up all night  
  
Pimpin' ain't easy  
Most of them fleece me  
Every night  
Pimpin' ain't easy  
But if you're sellin' it  
It's alright"  
  
  
  
Yes, it really is that bad. Another shocking coincidence (actually, it's merely for the purpose of furthering this story - Ed) was that Robbie Williams was involved in the Peter Andre consipiracy theory. Maybe I could have a 'friendly chat' with him, and persuade him to accompany me to the offices of Bill Gate. Unbeknownst to the darling Robbie, these offices were now occupied entirely by my ally Mr Smiley.  
  
"Robbie Williams!" I cried.  
  
"Ahh, another fan, eh? Sorry, I don't do autographs. All I want is to eat an effing MacDonald's in peace. Is that too much to ask?" He said, rather snobbily. This was followed by a long string of expletives.  
  
"Actually, no. I hate you with the fiery passions of hell. I believe you should be castrated - if, in fact, you have not been already - for your shoddy music. I am here to discuss with you the disappearence of the mighty Peter Andre."  
  
"W-what?! How do you know about that?!" Robbie became noticeably more nervous, and twitched a bit.  
  
"Let's just say: I have my resources. But, I am merely a puppet operated by the metaphorical strings of a much greater master."  
  
"...?" Confusion was evident on the young singer's face.  
  
"I'm talking about Bill Gates, you numpty. He wishes to talk with you. The choice is entirely yours, but let's just say that if you refuse, you may meet a miserable end..."  
  
"I'll do it! Just don't let him kill me!"  
  
***  
  
Robbie Williams grimaced and a whimper escaped his mouth as he saw the thing which sat in Bill Gate's office. Mr Smiley couldn't be further from the twisted, frail frame of Microsoft's creator. The large yellow ball looked slightly annoyed when I presented my find to him.  
  
"What? What would I want with Robbie Williams? If it would please you, kill him. But I want nothing to do with him. I've heard his songs played on Mp3, and I was NOT impressed," he growled.  
  
"Oh ho ho, but he can be of use," I winked. "Just think... who does Robbie Williams most appeal to?"  
  
"Lunatics?"  
  
"Indeed. But this must not become a chapter dedicated to extracting the proverbial piss from Robbie. I'm talking about teenage girls!"  
  
"Look, Erin... I don't care where your sexual interests lie. If you want a teenage gi-"  
  
"Can you shut up for just ONE SECOND?! Good. Listen, if we get Williams to sing a song encouraging the teenagers to rebel against Microsoft and aid us in our quest to take over the world, they'll do it. They will be as putty in our hands. Mine to mould for my own selfish desires... But, I digress. What do you think?"  
  
"I like it. I do have a suggestion, though. Let's feed him vast quantities of Pepto-bismal first."  
  
"Yes. Yes we shall."  
  
----  
  
Rather a short chapter. However, I'm trying to progress the plot more rapidly, and don't want to lose the momentum I have so recently gained. 


	6. Chp. 5: Microsoft's Swan Song

Robbie, doped up on Pepto-bismol, had been set the task of writing a song encouraging teenage girls to rebel against Microsoft, and help us to take over the world. After only five minutes, the song was complete.  
  
"It's finished!" He proclaimed proudly.  
  
"Already? What kind of shockingly bad song could be written in five minutes?" I asked.  
  
"A Robbie Williams song," he replied, winking.  
  
"Okay, let's hear it..."  
  
Robbie cleared his throat, and as his mouth opened, the following poured out:  
  
"Oooooooh, baby!  
You know Microsoft is bad,  
If you use it you must be mad!  
Hey, hey! I know I hate it,  
Anyone who touches it is a git.  
  
Ooooooooh, Microsoft!  
Ooooooooh, it really sucks!  
Bill Gates is a smelly poo-poo,  
Microsoft smells of doggy doo-doo!  
(Oooooooooooooooh)..."  
  
"Okay, I believe I've heard enough!" I yelled, covering my ears. "It's perfect. Get down to the recording studio with some of Smiley's goons and get that song out to the masses! This, my dear Mr Williams, shall be your finest hour."  
  
****  
  
A matter of hours later, and the finished song was sitting on the shelves of every record store around America and Britain. Just half an hour later, and it had become Robbie Williams' fastest selling single. Teenage girls everywhere were hanging on their idol's every word. Even they could understand the meaning behind the song. Although initially wary of the song - they were unused to listening to something with at least some sort of meaning in it - they soon grew to love it. Grabbing all their Microsoft products, they ran into the streets and burned them.   
  
Huge bonfires were everywhere. CDs; mouses; keyboards; mousemats; novelty mugs; all burning on their pyres. It was a grim day in the world of the computer industry... well, it wasn't really. The smaller companies who had been crushed by Microsoft's monopoly on the industry were now free. There was much rejoicing in the offices of these companies. They were grateful to whomever had aided the liberation they had been desperately trying to bring about over the years of Bil Gates's rise to power. Now they wanted nothing more than to find this person and hail them as a God. When I say they wanted nothing more than this, I lie. They also wanted an onion bagel with cream cheese, as thoughts of worship had made them very hungry. After the discovery of the perfect bagels, the companies set about what was to inevitably be a long and arduous voyage of discovery.  
  
****  
  
"Ho ho ho," I chuckled.  
  
"What are you laughing about?" Mr Smiley snapped, "do you think you're Santa Claus or something? Well, I've got news for you, kid: you ain't."  
  
"Not at all. But I've just been using Microsoft's new software called "50 Yu0 \/\/4nn4 b3 a 1337 H4x0r?" and - "  
  
"Wait!" Smiley interrupted, "What in tarnation does that mean?"  
  
"My apologies. I believe - roughly translated from 'hax0r speak" - it reads "So you want to be an elite hacker?" Now, as I was saying. This software enables its user to access many, many forbidden files and e-mails. Useful material, I'm sure you'll agree, for any budding 12-year-old hacker."  
  
"Yes, yes. But you try my patience! What has this to do with the cause?"  
  
"I was getting to that. Using this software, I have been able to access the e-mails of some of Microsoft's competitors. They are very pleased with our work, Smiley, very pleased indeed. They want to worship us as Gods. We are very close to victory!"  
  
Mr Smiley noted the wild gleam in my eyes and laughed, "yes, I can smell the sweet scent of victory."  
  
Pouring two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice - we needed to buff up our intake of Vitamin C - we drank and cackled long into the night.  
  
-----  
  
Hmm. This chapter began promisingly enough, I believe, but I'm not happy with the rest of it. I may re-write it later, if I feel I can improve on it. 


End file.
